He remembered first meeting Ryan- it was an interview, probablt the tenth out of a dozen personal assistant applicants that he’d narrowed down from the hundreds of application forms and resumes he’d been sent. In all honesty, he hadn’t read most of them, and towards the end, he realised he only had about three to interview and needed to flesh out his options, so he picked the people with alliterative names because he felt a kind of kindred spirit with them. That’s probably how Ryan Ready ended up in the group- Brendon Blake’s pure laziness and unwillingness and inability to concentrate on something so boring for more than ten minutes without hunting for something more interesting and self indulgent. Even during the interviews (that, to the dismay of his father, he insisted take place in the living room of one of his penthouse apartments), he sat there drinking ridiculously expensive wine, scoring applicants down when they [i]didn’t[/i] accept the offer (he didn’t want to spend a lot of his time with someone boring and uptight). Funnily enough, Ryan Ready sort of fitted the bill of those last two qualities, but he accepted the wine, and made Brendon feel easy and comfortable, like he wasn’t being judged for the first time all day. Even though he was wealthy and famous and sort of intimidatingly attractive, Ryan seemed to show no signs of either silently judging him for his overindulgence or any boring traits like over-the-top obedience. Plus, he was pretty. Brendon decided immediately during the first thirty seconds of meeting him that this was his new PA.

Ryan asked a question no other applicant brought up- what happened to Brendon’s previous assistant? When those almost hesitant words reached his ears, Brendon’s mouth twitched and he tried not to smirk. He answered a question with a question and had asked Mr. Ready what [i]he[/i] thought had happened to his previous employee. Ryan had responded along the lines of saying it couldn’t be problems with salary (Brendon was quite a generous man when it came down to it, but then, he was rich, how generous could he really be), and the employee wouldn’t have quit such a prestigious job. Brendon was also known to be a charming and entertaining man, so he doubted the employee quit- so he must have been fired. Right so far, Brendon had responded, pouring himself another glass of wine after topping Ryan’s up. Then, to his surprise, Ryan said something incredibly bold- [i]People say you fired him because you slept together and then got bored of him. [/i] Stunned, he almost choked on his wine and had to straighten up. That almost accusation was he last thing he expected coming from this polite man’s mouth.

Brendon had paused, looking at Ryan from over his wine glass, eyebrows raising minutely as he took in a short, amused breath, regaining his composure. He pursed his lips to quell a smirk for a moment before taking a sip, glancing down so his eyelashes cast long shadows over his cheekbones in the soft glow of the room- the apartment light was warm and golden, but dim, so the corners of the room were swathed with shadows and the usually bright red of the velvet sofa was muted to a deep scarlet. Shifting, as if restless, he exhaled in a way that was almost exasperated, and set his glass aside before leaning back and considering the man before him again, and the words that had just left his mouth. [b]”Slept with my assistant?”[/b] He had repeated, feigning shock. Though this rumour was strictly true, it was no surprise to him that people thought it to be fact. Ryan looked almost ill, clearly kicking himself for costing himself a career. Brendon had laughed softly, shaking his head. [b]”Don’t clam up now, c’mon.”[/b] Ryan recovered only a little to say [i]people consider you something of a playboy, sir.[/i] People weren’t wrong. Brendon frowned just for a fraction of a second, wondering exactly what his public image was these days. Maybe his father was right- maybe he [i]was[/i] a liability.

Brendon found it fitting to just laugh it off and sweep past it, and in another ten minutes their conversation was over, Brendon shook Ryan’s hand and told him he’d get a call- or not- by Monday. Not even a few hours passed and Brendon had called him, grinning the whole time, bringing news that Mr. Ryan Ready was now his personal assistant, congratulations, you start on Monday, you’re technically underqualified but you’re a Virgo so you’ll figure it out, I’ll see you tomorrow. Ryan barely got a word out and Brendon got bored and hung up, then decided to go out to dinner that evening with his father to see if he could smooth over any bumps in their relationship. He kind of needed that inheritance. The next day, he and Ryan met again, and from then, Ryan had proved himself both a capable assistant and enjoyable company. They found it  easy to be around eachother, and in less than a week, if Ryan hadn’t been working for Brendon, Brendon would have considered the two of them friends.

He also thought he was incredibly attractive and wondered whether it was too soon to sleep with him. In Brendon’s life, it was usually never too soon. Ryan was definitely into him, he wasn’t stupid; he was both observant and an Aries and that meant he wouldn’t tread lightly. Brendon had never tread lightly around anyone- that’s usually how he ended up in so much trouble. Either way, one night, Brendon was lonely- and even though he had countless friends he could call, he only wanted the company of one person, and they were at the top of his call list because Brendon never answered his phone. Calling back at 3am, to his surprise, Ryan picked up pretty quickly, sounding very irritated. [i]What do you want?[/i] [b]”Wow, chill the fuckin’ attitude. I want some soda, I’m out. Get me some?”[/b] Brendon sounded hopeful, and he wandered out through double doors onto the balcony, lighting a cigarette while he held his phone between his head and his shoulder. He then put his lighter in his jacket pocket and took a drag, listening intently to Ryan obviously getting ready on the other end of the phone. [b]"Is that a yes? You’re the best. Love ya.”[/b] He hung up, and spent the fifteen minutes between that phone call and Ryan’s arrival at the apartment out on the balcony, reading and not responding to texts.

Ryan had to live very close to Brendon, so it did only take fifteen minutes for him to go and get some six packs of soda and then drop them off. Brendon heard him come in, and walk out onto the balcony, but he didn’t turn around until Ryan was behind him. Slowly turning, he leaned back, resting his elbows on the edge of the balcony and tilting his head to the side. Extending himself in a languid, lithe stretch, he then stood up straight, biting his lip to stop a smirk. [b]”So good of you to come at 3am. What more could I ask for from an assistant, huh?”[/b] He paused, offering Ryan his second cigarette since the phone call. [b]”Hey, you should just crash here. Ever slept with silk sheets before?”[/b]